


thought you might be mine

by theamazingpeterparker



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Model Niall, Model Zayn, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingpeterparker/pseuds/theamazingpeterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You know how you’re always telling me to make new friends?” Zayn finally asks, tugs her long hair into a bun and Liam gives her a tiny smile and nods, laughs, “Who’d you piss off this time?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Zayn wants to snap at him but knows he’s right and she’s too tired to defend herself. “Niall Horan.”</i>
  <br/>
</p><p>Or, Zayn's the top model in the fashion industry, until Niall shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thought you might be mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daydoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydoodles/gifts).



> I had so much fun writing for this ziall fic exchange! written based on the prompt; "genderbend au where zayn and niall are models and zayn is the hottest model of the moment but she resents niall for being her top (and newest) competition, so zayn tries to sabotage niall's career but ends up sabotaging her own plans when she falls in love with niall. liam is zayn's agent, harry is niall's agent and louis is a fashion designer."  
> big giant huge thanks as always to [clare](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fervent) for helping me through this madness.  
> title from knee socks by arctic monkeys.

Liam always tells Zayn to not frown so much when she’s upset about something, she’s too young to have frown-lines already, but it’s not like she can help it. It’s not as if the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is anything to worry about, Zayn’s walked for London Fashion Week since she was eighteen and Burberry is almost always trying to schedule for her appearances, but the Angels Show is where she sees most of her young competition. Zayn’s not _old_ at twenty-three, she’s really at her prime, but she can’t help but be a little uneasy when she sees these other young girls, tottering around backstage in their wings and heels and looking like they’re ready to take the world by storm. Their passion can be a little intimidating, even though both Zayn and Liam know that none of them can touch her. At this point, she’s only doing the Victoria’s Secret Show because she’s bored and has a few days to kill in NYC.

 She’s in makeup next to some petite little blonde who’s practically buzzing in her seat, the hair stylist almost burning her ear twice because she can’t sit still. Zayn’s just about to pop her earbuds in and drown it all out when she hears, “Holy _fuck_ , is that Zayn Malik?”

It comes from the girl next to her, and even though it was obviously supposed to be a hushed question to the hairstylist, Zayn hears it anyway and quirks an eyebrow over at the girl, who flushes a bright pink all the way to her scalp. She tries to play it cool, looks back down at her phone but she’s still fidgeting and Zayn can’t help but stare at the girl until she looks up again. Zayn gives her a feline smile, purrs “That _is_ Zayn Malik,” and the girl goes completely still before breaking into a huge grin. She sticks out a hand, the thumbnail chipped with blue polish that matches her eyes and Zayn can’t help but think it’s cute, that little chip in her otherwise flawless composure. She’s pretty, blonde and blue-eyed and perfect for any type of lingerie that Angels are so famous for wearing.

 “I can’t believe it. I remember watching your first London Fashion Week, when you walked for Tomlinson. Changed my life, seeing the stilettos you were in.” She’s absolutely beaming, an expression that’s a little odd to see backstage in makeup, where everyone else is otherwise composed and cool. “I’m Niall Horan, by the way. Not that you’d know me. This is my first Angels show, if it means anything. Though it probably doesn’t, to you.” her hairstylist makes a noise that’s a barely-concealed snort. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, like. Intrude. Or whatever. Just you were the first model I saw where I was like, _wow, I either want to be her or do her_.” Niall doesn’t blush when she says it, instead she grins with the confidence of someone who’s flirting in a dive bar or something. Zayn’s kind of impressed, even if she would never admit to it. Instead she just gives Niall a warmer smile, shakes her hand and kisses one of her knuckles gently enough that she doesn’t mess up her lipstick. “Lovely to meet you, Niall,” she says, and she’s genuine about it, she’s always liked the playfulness of the VS Fashion Show and the opportunities it gives to upcoming models like her. “You look beautiful, for what it’s worth. I’m sure you get that a lot, most Angels do.” Zayn gives her a wink, and it’s no more flirting than she usually does with people backstage, but it’s enough for Niall to bark out a laugh and cover her face with her hands (the hairstylist looks about ready to brand her with the curling iron if she doesn’t sit still). “Wow. That means. Wow. A lot.”

Niall’s agent looks hardly old enough to drink, but he's trying and Zayn can give him credit for that, clad in a half-buttoned YSL shirt and curls of hair pushed under a black fedora, necklaces swinging from his neck when he comes to usher Niall off to her wing fitting. He spares Zayn half a glance, gives her a respectful nod and then he and Niall are scurrying off and Zayns left with a feeling like admiration in her stomach.

Zayn wears the fantasy bra, this years design costing just shy of $12mil. It’s an honor, really, and she can’t help but preen in the attention a bit as she lines up and waits for her cue on stage. Everyone’s eyes are on her, the final showcasing piece of the event before the rest of the models follow her on stage, so as soon as the director points her out she struts, walks easier in her six inch stilettos than she does barefoot, all the way down the runway. She doesn’t smile, not really, just looks out over the audience and gives them a look that tells all of them that she was made to do this. Nobody looks like they doubt her. She gives the camera a final glance as it zooms out and the rest of the models make their way on stage behind her, half of them posing and laughing and the other half dancing around as much as their heels and outfits would allow. Zayn turns and immediately spots Niall, still in her white and blue icicle wings laughing with one of the other rookies, and she turns and sees Zayn, gives her a not-subtle up and down glance before winking and giving her a thumbs up.

Zayn sees Niall again in LA, but she's not at a fashion show. She's outside on the sidewalk wearing a tiny rainbow croptop and black shorts, blonde hair streaked with every color of hair chalk Zayn’s seen and she's handing out flyers. She looks like she’s straight out of a sorority, Zayn spots her agent on the opposite side of the crowd, wearing a rainbow scarf around his head and talking animatedly with a group of younger people, probably high schoolers. Zayn doesn’t realise she’s walked right through a gay rights demonstration until Niall flounces up to her, rainbow stripes painted under her reddened cheeks when she blushes and hands Zayn a flyer. It’s a flyer to legalize gay marriage, with a list of politicians in support of it and websites to visit for petitions, community support, and info for the UCLA campus.

“You go to UCLA?” is all Zayn can think to say, doesn’t want to start with _you’re gay_? right off the bat for some reason.

“No,” Niall laughs and oh, right, Zayn forgot she’s from Ireland, her accent reminding her and she sounds so out of place here. “But they’re having their pride week this week and I was here, figured I’d come show my support for the community.”

“So you’re…?” Zayn’s not sure _why_ she’s so uncomfortable asking, it’s just that personal life and work life don’t really overlap with the fashion industry, because personal life often _is_ work life. Zayn’s never liked the pressure put on celebrities for their opinions, would never actually align herself one way or another with politics or hot topics and risk her career turning into something other than just fashion. Niall’s just kind of. Different, in that way, standing in front of Zayn in downtown LA as a human rainbow.

“I’m bisexual,” Niall says matter-of-factly, proudly, and it makes Zayn smile down at her flyer for some stupid reason. Zayn doesn’t really have anything to say to that, and she has to get to Liam’s flat in ten minutes. Really, all she wants to do is sit on the curb and watch Niall all day, but all she says is, "Good for you, Niall. Need more girls like you in the industry,” and Niall just beams, shoots Zayn some dorky finger guns and wishes her luck before Zayn heads off.

Even though the majority of her job requires her to be put in sexualized poses and magazines, Zayn’s not a very sexual person outside of work. She's hooked up with the hottest male models in Paris and Rome and kissed a few stray girls when she was drunk in LA or Chicago, but sex is rarely at the forefront of her mind. Her vibrator suits her fine, thanks, and most of her one night stands have been shockingly underwhelming, so. There's not a lot of time to put relationships or people above her work.

Zayn knows almost every star model has their signature publicity stunt, drugs or too much partying or arrests or affairs. So when Zayn sees a pap pic of Niall in a club in another girls lap, she's kind of jarred. Harry tells Liam in typical agent-hossip that it wasn't for publicity, and that Niall doesn't give two shits about who does and who doesn't see her in public with her partners. It's early enough in her career that it won't be a big shock to anyone if she climbs the fashion ladder, and besides, sexuality is hardly a hot-topic conversation anymore among models.

But still. She’s competition and she’s different and Zayn doesn’t know how to...handle it.

Louis Tomlinson is the only designer that Zayn will willingly speak to outside of work, whenever she's in Paris or whenever Louis is in New York they make it a date to go out to dinner and keep the paps on their toes. Zayn can't help but bristle a bit when Louis asks Zayn about Niall, who landed herself on the cover of _Cosmopolitan_ last week with an interview about her open bisexuality and how she hopes to inspire young girls to define beauty for themselves. Zayn’s pretty sure there was a dig towards her in the interview, Niall had said "there are some models who get so wrapped up in keeping with traditional standards of fashion and beauty that they forget how to be themselves," all because Niall had gotten Zayn to talk about her love of comic books at that show a few weeks ago, when Iron Man was playing on the TV in the dressing room, and then two days later Zayn had lied in an interview and said that her main hobbies were working out and partying. Liam just thinks Zayn’s being paranoid.

"You know Horan, right?" is how it starts, Louis looking expectantly over at Zayn from their candlelit table, tucked away in some swanky restaurant in Paris that Zayn can’t say the name of. Zayn just shrugs, folds her hands delicately over her napkin in her lap and waits.

"Her agent is Harry Styles. I keep trying to get Niall to walk for me at my fall line debut but he's keeping her hard to get. Why? What's so special about her?"

Zayn considers it. "She's young. doesn't take anyone's shit. She's out, too, which is a big draw for young kids who aren't necessarily into fashion but still care about gay rights. Don't know why you'd want a skater Avril Lavigne wannabe to walk for you,though."

Louis bites out a laugh, loud and sharp the way it is when he knows that Zayn is bullshitting him. "retract your claws. I kinda just want to break through her agents angry ‘look at me being a big scary adult’ facade. I could offer her the top spot of my winter line and he'd be on his knees for me. Begging me, I mean."

"Sure, Lou." Zayn rolls her eyes and then throws a piece of her bread at him, "and if you give her the top winter spot, we are no longer friends. I cannot believe you even joked about that just now."

"I was only, like, 83% joking," Loui sighs with a wave of his hand, drains the last sips of wine from his glass and settles Zayn with a serious look. “Nobody’s going to take your spot, Z. Have you ever considered also that maybe you could be friends with her? If you weren’t so, you know…moody?”

Zayn just sniffs and takes an aggressive bite of her pasta, gets a laugh from Louis that tells her he’s not going to launch into some lecture. Lectures are Liam’s job, anyway. “I really might sign her, though. Tomlinson, Horan and Malik. What a team that would be, right?” he leans back, hooks his hands behind his head and looks wistfully up at the ceiling. “Fast track to fame. We could be on the same level as Calvin Klein. Chanel. Gucci.”

Zayn almost chokes on her food, starts laughing and has to wash it down with her wine until she can look Louis in the eye. “Oh, babe,” she sighs, shaking her head and still laughing, “don’t ever claim Gucci as you.”

:::

Zayn walks in on Niall and Barbara kissing in the hot tub one night during Paris Fashion Week, all of the models put up in the same hotel which meant that Zayn had spent most of the weekend holed up in her room. It’s almost ten and usually the rooftop pool is empty by then, so Zayn drops her hoodie and towel on a chair and makes her way to the water’s edge when she hears giggling.

Niall’s practically on top of Barbara, holding her face and rocking down into her lap while they kiss and Zayn absolutely knows that she’s invading their privacy but she can’t stop _watching_ , the pink of Niall’s tongue sliding into her mouth and her lips smeared with the dark red lipstick one of them was wearing at the start of this. Zayn’s a deer in headlights when Niall pulls away, both of them laughing, and she catches Zayn’s eye over Barbara’s shoulder, winks and smiles like she did that first night at the VS Show. Zayn almost slips and breaks her neck in her haste to retreat back inside, holds her breath until she’s back in her hotel room. She showers even though she didn’t swim, brushes her teeth and hangs up her bathing suit, going through the motions of routine just to get the image of Niall’s wet torso pressed up against Barbara’s out of her mind. In the end she digs her vibrator out of her suitcase and burrows herself in bed. Gasps into her pillow when she comes thinking about Niall’s mouth.

Niall avoids Zayn for most of Paris Fashion Week and Zayn’s able to devote herself fully to her runways, Louis’s fall line sneak peeks and a new Zuhair Murad gown to show the audience, after parties to go to and people to dazzle. It’s not until the middle of the week that she and Niall are both walking for Elie Saab that Niall finally sits next to her in makeup. Zayn doesn’t usually fidget, but she makes an excuse to pull out her phone and text nonsense to Liam just to avoid eye contact.

“I don’t know if you’re, like, homophobic or something,” is how Niall starts out, and Zayn actually flinches hard enough that her hairstylist burns the top of her ear with the straightener, “but the whole hot tub thing the other night seems like it left a bad impression.”

She’s not accusatory or angry, just kind of stating a fact that Zayn doesn’t know how to react to. It was just a jarring thing to walk up to, when Zayn’s so used to Niall smiling for the cameras and modeling modest jeans and jackets instead of wearing wet fucking bathing suits in the laps of other VS Angels. Zayn’s not about to say some cheesy line like _I’m not homophobic_ , but she’s also not about to be like, _oh, yea, my mistake, i ran back to my hotel and got off while thinking about your lips and tits_ , so she just kind of sits and stares at her hands in her lap until Niall speaks again. This time, she sounds a little angrier. “And, like, I don’t know why you’re so uptight, either? I’ve been nothing but friendly to you since we met and you just keep blocking me out, and I don’t know if it’s some supermodel secret code I’m not up to date with yet or if it’s _really_ because I like girls or what, but I’d really appreciate it if you could at least act professional when we have to work the same gig.”

Zayn bites the inside of her cheek, waits for her hairstylist to douse her with hairspray and leave before she fully turns to Niall.

Zayn’s been in conflicts before. She knows catty models and she knows icy and superficial models and she knows how to act around all of them, but Niall is so different because she’s so new and genuine and Zayn can tell that she doesn’t get mad often. It strikes a nerve, a tremor running up Zayn’s back while she tries to formulate anything that would fix it without ruining her reputation. “You just surprised me,” she finally settles on saying with a shrug, keeps her face carefully blank.

Niall raises her eyebrows, doesn’t totally buy it and Zayn starts talking again, “I’m just not used to other models sharing their personal lives with me,” she amends, glances up through her hair, “not used to other models sharing _anything_ with me, really. Gets lonely up at the top. Kind of a lone wolf,” she finally looks up, offers Niall one of her crooked, crinkly smiles and Niall finally eases, her face dropping into something softer and she just nods, “okay. It’s okay,” and that’s all that’s said before Zayn’s being whisked off to the fitting rooms, doesn’t see Niall again until they’re on stage and can’t look at each other, anyway.

Zayn hides out in Liam’s room after dinner that night, face scrubbed clean of makeup and she’s wearing someone else’s clothes, a shirt she had to nick from Louis’s office maybe, and she knows Liam would give her an earful for walking through the hotel lobby in such a state but she doesn’t care, uses Liam’s extra room key and heads straight for the chair in the corner, shrinks into it and waits for him to come out of the shower. When he does he starts a little bit seeing her there, raises an eyebrow and gives her a once over to make sure she’s not missing any limbs before toweling off his hair and tugging on a shirt. He gives her space, as usual, sits carefully on the edge of the bed and waits for her to speak.

“You know how you’re always telling me to make new friends?” Zayn finally asks, tugs her long hair into a bun and Liam gives her a tiny smile and nods, laughs, “Who’d you piss off this time?”

Zayn wants to snap at him but knows he’s right and she’s too tired to defend herself when she feels this shitty. “Niall Horan.”

Liam hums, gets up to put his phone on silent and opens his suitcase. He pulls out a jar of peanut butter and few bars of chocolate and falls back on the bed, pats the mattress beside him and offers Zayn the snack. Zayn figures she must be pretty visibly upset by the whole thing if Liam’s offering her snacks that she’d otherwise not be allowed to eat during a fashion week. “You’re usually not too bothered when you piss people off,” Liam finally says around a finger full of peanut butter. It’s a segway into a question he won’t ask, but Zayn’ll answer anyway.

“She’s just. Like. I don’t know?” Zayn focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar just so she can avoid Liam’s gaze, because if she looks at him he’s going to make her feel guiltier than she already feels. “When I met her she talked about how she remembers watching me walk, and just like. I never really had that, you know? Everyone I meet either wants to be me or kill me, I’ve never had anyone who just appreciates what I do and wanted to do it for themselves, alone, like I did before you and Lou.” Zayn breaks off half of the bar and smothers it with peanut butter, lets it sit on her tongue for a few moments. Wishes she had some weed, wishes that Liam would let her smoke even though it’s during one of the biggest weeks of the year. “And I saw her kissing Palvin a few days ago, kind of walked right in on them, and Niall winked at me and I kind of ran out. So she confronted me about that. And it’s not just that, you know, it’s everything, it’s the fact that she’s so genuine and determined and that’s fucking scary, innit? She’s rising up faster than I did and it’s like, effortless for her, a month ago she was on Cosmo and VS and, like, some Ron Jon surfer chick and now Chanel wants her? _Louis_ wants her?”

They’re quiet for a bit, nothing but the sound of the chocolate wrappers and Liam shifting on the bed until he scoots over and wraps Zayn in a tight hug. Liam’s hugs are her favorite, have been since she was eighteen and absolutely terrified of the entire business. Still terrified of it all now four years later, but at least now she’s got some footing to stand on. He buries his face in her hair and kisses her head, keeps her anchored there. “There’s no rule that says there can’t be two queens of the fashion world,” is what he finally mumbles, pulls away in case she slaps him or gets upset. When she doesn’t move, he runs a thumb over her kneecap and shrugs. “Give her a chance, Z. Sabotaging her isn’t worth risking her career and yours. Nobody tried sabotaging _you_ when you were on your way up, you know how hard it is to do it alone, let alone with someone trying to fuck with it. Circle of life, and all.” He pauses, watches Zayn shove the second half of the chocolate bar in her mouth and smirks. “Plus, I doubt she’s some villain type to push Mufasa off the top and say _long live the king_. Something tells me she’d be more than happy to share the spotlight with you.”

:::

Zayn gets a blissful week off after that, she’s not sure if she really had this gap in her schedule or if Liam is giving her a vacation from work but either way she’s grateful to go back to London. Doesn’t have to be anywhere near Niall or fashion or high heels for five days. Her apartment almost feels like another hotel room for the first few nights, it always takes her a few days to readjust to being able to cook her own food and have a closet full of her own clothes, have a bed that isn’t tucked tight with hospital cornered blankets. She lays in bed for an entire day with a box of cereal on the nightstand, Liam facetimes her asking if she’s still alive and she just hums cheerfully from where she’s buried under her blankets, shows him her box of Weetabix and then turns her phone so he can see where she’s been watching _Mythbusters_ for the past three hours.

“You’re enjoying yourself, then,” Liam says flatly even though he’s smiling at the screen and Zayn just gives him a thumbs up. “Alright. I’ll pick you up Friday for London week, don’t get yourself into any trouble.”

Zayn knows by _trouble_ he really means don’t give up on your diet and exercise, don’t get arrested and don’t land yourself on TMZ. Zayn’s pretty good at not getting caught with stuff, but she does end up calling Louis. She knows that Tuesdays are his slow days and when she asks him to come smoke a bowl with her she knows he won’t be able to say no. An hour later he’s in her kitchen, leaning against the counter in his work clothes, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos and his tie hanging loosely around his neck watching her eat an entire pot of macaroni and cheese by herself.

“Liam’ll be annoyed if you can’t fit into my gowns next week,” he teases, scrunches up his nose when she licks the last of the cheese off the fork and groans loudly, sighs “ _carbs_ ” and keeps the fork in her mouth a few more moments.

“Thought I came to smoke, not watch you pig out,” Louis chimes in once Zayn’s dumped the pot in the sink. She rolls her eyes at him, takes him by the hand and leads him to sit on her couch while she goes to her desk to fish out her bowl, rolling papers, and her sketchbook.

It’s the only solid bit of familiarity that Zayn’s had over the last few weeks, Louis on the couch next to her toying with his lighter and looking through his drawings from last time. Most of the gowns he designs for Zayn are products of nights like this, both of them hunched over a joint and Louis drawing whatever comes to mind when he looks at Zayn. Tonight she just sits at the corner of the couch and watches him watch her, sporadic giggling between the two of them whenever Louis coughs on his inhale.

They end up in Zayn’s room, getting sidetracked because Louis wants to see all his previous creations that she’s worn on her own time, dinners and parties and appearances. Her closet is half the size of her bedroom, one side of it all her formalwear and work clothes and the other half all drawers overflowing with tshirts and hoodies. Louis clicks his tongue disapprovingly, kicks aside a pair of Doc Martens to get to her gowns from last year’s Garavani winter line, hung next to the Tomlinson spring dresses. There’s no real organization to any of it, and Zayn can tell that even though he’s stoned as fuck it still bothers Louis a bit, makes little noises at the back of his throat when he comes across a dress that isn’t hung properly. Louis tugs out an older Murad gown, all white lace with sheer fabric to match her skin, one of Zayn’s favorites. Zuhair is Zayn’s second favorite designer--behind Louis, of course--and she knows that Louis can appreciate how wonderful Zayn looks in these dresses.

“Gonna make you one like this,” Louis mumbles, holds the dress up against Zayn and hums to himself the way he does when he’s thinking, eyes half-lidded. “Looks best on you, your skin with this material.” he’s not really talking to Zayn at this point, just kind of muttering under his breath and Zayn leans down to kiss his cheek. Wants to thank him for how much he’s done for her, a whole closet of opportunity but she can’t find the words and Louis just swats her away anyway. “Maybe black instead of white, though. Not as much lace. Mermaid skirt. Higher neck,” and then he’s strolling off down her line of hangers again muttering and Zayn sits on the loveseat in the middle of the closet, packs another bowl.

“There’s a closet joke to be made here somewhere,” Louis finally says when he sits next to Zayn, snatches up the glass and lighter and looks pointedly at her. “Why the sudden vacation?”

Zayn exhales in his face, can’t find it in her to be annoyed that he’s asking. “Liam thought I needed a break. Was getting a little overwhelmed with rising competition. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” Louis repeats, but that’s all he says on the matter, ushers her back out into the living room to put together her outfits for London week. 

:::

It’s customary that there are pranks pulled on the last day of LFW, Cara usually starting them and everyone following suit, harmless things like plastic wrap over doorways and shock-handshake rings. It’s all (mostly) good-humored, and if it’s not, nobody can really tell, anyway.

It’s not that Zayn’s trying to _sabotage_ Niall, but she might be trying to sabotage Niall. Liam convinces her that it’s all in good fun, a bit of hazing never hurt anyone. In the end, they both know that it’s just a way for Zayn to take her anger out on something, make her feel more secure in her spot on top even though Niall is rising so fast. And Zayn would never do anything to _hurt_ Niall, would never trip her on stage or fuck with her outfits before a show like she’s heard some other catty models have done to rivals. It starts with a tweet, really. Zayn never tweets and when she does it’s usually passive-aggressive, it’s one night past her bedtime and she’s a bit drunk when she taps out _good to see surfer chick models rising in the industrry so fastd, esp going from Ron Jon to Burberry! :)_ and she deletes it ten minutes later but the damage is done, her replies flooded with _is this about @NiallOfficial_? and she shuts her phone off after that.

(When she turns her phone on the next morning there’s a new tweet from Niall. Not that Zayn has notifications for Niall turned on or anything. _@NiallOfficial: Guys ! Can we please stop sending other girls hate for sharing their opinions ! humbled to be with such a group of models, no drama pls !_ and Zayn brushes her teeth twice to get the taste of guilt out of her mouth.)

Liam and Zayn end up watching _Big Fat Liar_ on some American channel and the hairdye is 100% Liam’s idea. It’s childish and stupid and it’s Liam who actually buys the hairdye for Zayn, but in the end it’s Zayn who pours the contents into Niall’s shampoo bottle backstage.

Zayn doesn’t see the outcome until two days later on Twitter, _@NiallOfficial: Don’t know how it happened haha , mustv grabbed a wrong shampoo bottle before my shower !!_ and #LilacNiall trending after a new Dolce  & Gabbana photoshoot releases with Niall at the forefront, her once bleach-blonde hair now falling around her shoulders soft and purple. She’s wearing a cream lace dress for the new winter line, face bare of makeup except for mascara and she’s got pink and white flowers at the crown of her hair and it’s every fucking look that Zayn wishes she herself was capable of pulling off, soft and pale and innocent instead of always dark and intimidating and regal. Zayn throws her phone across the room and gets a call on the hotel phone from Liam next door. He asks, “so I guess you saw it, then?” and Zayn just snarls, “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Liam pauses a moment and Zayn can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice when he says, “we could’ve just dyed her whole body blue,” and Zayn hangs up before his laughter reaches through her reciever.

Within a week, Niall’s started a trend, hairchalk and dip-dye and pastel colors crawling their way into the backstage makeup rooms but Zayn adamantly avoids all of it, does just the opposite and is the only model on the Paulo Sebastian runway to wear the dark violet and black floral gown, makeup dark and dramatic at the head of a line of pastel ballerinas.

There’s paps by the pool at the hotel after the show, Zayn not initially planning on getting in the water but she changes her mind after Niall cannonballs off the diving board. She wrings her hair out when she surfaces and immediately clambers on Harry’s shoulders, takes off her agent’s hat that he’s still wearing in the water and puts it on her own head and proposing a game of chicken.

Through a series of bad decisions and a bit of malicious intent, Zayn ends up in the water on Barbara’s shoulders trying to wrestle Niall off Harry’s shoulders. If her finger gets snagged around the string of Niall’s bikini top it’s not entirely her fault, but Niall’s laughing when she goes down into the water and as soon as she’s under her top bobs to the surface and Niall pops up after it, half-laughing and pushing hair out of her face while Harry rushes to grab the bikini and shove it at Niall, who doesn’t seem too upset about it being pulled off. Her hair is long enough that it pools around her chest in the water anyway, looks kind of like a mermaid or something and Zayn feels stupid, calls out a weak apology as she floats off Barbara’s back and Niall just gives her a wicked grin in return as she lets Harry retie the strings.

Niall tweets _#FreeTheNipple ( . Y . )_ that night as her only response to the pap pictures that are immediately eaten up by the internet.

The sabotage quickly turns into a pranking war once Niall figures out it’s Liam who presented Harry and Niall with a plate of Oreo cookies filled with toothpaste. Zayn doesn’t think much of it when she sees Niall poking around the corner where all their heels are waiting, but as soon as Niall leaves and she goes to hunt out her black pumps to find them glued to the ground, Zayn figures this means war. Besides, it’s way more fun than anything else she does backstage.

It turns out Niall’s pokerface is absolutely useless, when she tries to get Zayn to sit on a whoopie cushion and bursts out laughing before Zayn even approaches her chair. She starts recruiting Harry to set up their pranks instead and Zayn doesn’t know much about Harry but she _does_ know that he’s almost as bad as Niall when it comes to sneaking around. There’s more than one instance when he creeps into the dressing room unaware that Zayn is there, carrying a bucket or a blanket or something else suspicious. As soon as Zayn lays eyes on him he’s stuttering apologies and excuses ( _This towel? Uh, I was told there was a bat loose backstage. I was going to capture it,)_ and ducking out, waits conspicuously in the hallway until Zayn leaves the room and then heads back in with another excuse, _dropped my contact lense, I think_. Liam gives Harry and Niall credit for at least _trying_ to keep up with them, always ends arguments with Harry with _well, we turned YOUR model’s hair purple_ and there’s not really a proper comeback for that.

It’s Zayn who ruins it for both teams. The Tomlinson office’s kitchen has one of the sinks with a pull out faucet hose and Zayn’s armed with a rubber band, excuses herself to the bathroom but sidetracks to the kitchen instead, coils the band around the handle of the faucet, tight enough to hold the trigger down and turns on the water a bit to make sure it’ll spray whoever uses the sink next.

“Hey, Niall?” Zayn asks a few minutes later when she’s stood on a pedestal getting fitted for a gown, looks down at Niall, Liam and Harry watching her as Louis sticks her dress with pins. “Do you wanna get me a glass of water, pretty please?”

Niall’s already nodding a yes when Louis stands up, waves a hand at Niall. “I gotta grab one for me, too, no worries, Zayn. Niall, you have to get changed, anyway.”

Liam and Zayn share a panicked look as Louis leaves the studio and heads off down the hall, Harry watching their exchange and asking slowly, “what did you guys do?...”

Zayn’s face falls when she realizes how much trouble she’s about to be in and Liam’s already laughing, bends over to put his face in his hands and then there it is, a shout from down the hall and a shrill _what the fuck_ from Louis. Niall and Harry look scandalized, already turning in their seats to see Louis come stomping back into the room soaking wet in his three piece silk suit.

“That was meant for Niall--” Zayn tries, can’t really run or hide or move since she’s still in her gown and Louis pulls off his tie, lets it hit the ground with a wet slap.

“I cannot _believe_ ,” Louis seethes, Liam is still dying in his chair and Harry seems to just be registering that Niall was almost the victim of another prank, Zayn just stands tall and waits for her punishment.

“I cannot believe you started a prank war and did not include me,” Louis finishes flatly, gives both parties a condescending look and sniffs, settles back down in his chair next to the bottom of Zayn’s gown and tries to remain dignified even though his shoes are squelching. “No more pranks. If I can’t be involved, none of you can be involved. Honestly, it’s like I signed a bunch of _children_ to my fashion line.”

His only punishment to Zayn is that he pricks her purposely in the arm while pinning the bodice of the dress, but he leans over when Harry and Niall aren’t looking and gives her a high-five.

:::

With Niall in the spotlight so constantly for reasons other than her actual fashion career, she’s subject to a lot of passive-aggressive headlines. Zayn’s used to it for herself, articles saying that she’s too dark-skinned or too intimidating or too separated from her coworkers and colleagues, every accusation on the “she’s such a bitch” spectrum can be attributed to Zayn somehow but she’s perfected the art of ignoring it. Niall, however, falls onto a different spectrum, one that Zayn’s never had to face before, the “she’s too political and outspoken” spectrum. Zayn assumes, in the beginning, that Niall will adjust like most models do and simmer down, settle into a apathetic routine. Instead, she’s done the exact opposite, the entire first row of image results after googling her name are photos of her at Pride Parades, or the nipple pool incident, or her twitter archive with tweets about body positivity and sexuality.

Either out of irony or the pure desire to be assholes, the media still gets most of her headlines wrong. _Model Niall Horan spotted swapping friendly kisses with Barbara Palvin, Model Horan represents straight allies at Pride Parade, Niall Horan Poolside Nude Scandal_. Every time Zayn sees a headline it makes her cringe, and seeing Niall trying to defend herself after some of the articles is just difficult to watch. There’s one tweet from two weeks ago, two o’clock in the morning that just read _@NiallOfficial: @DailyMirror IM BISEXUAL ! THANK YOU !! ! !_ and Zayn can practically feel the anger whenever she sees it, gets even angrier when she realises nobody really came to Niall’s defense, either. Including Zayn herself.

Zayn does this sometimes, googles a name and reads everything that comes up and she ends up with the results for _Niall Horan_ , reads every article from Cosmo to LGBTQIA+ blogs and knows that her favorite color is blue and she has a brother named Greg. She reads comments, too, doesn’t usually get upset about comments regarding herself but her blood is boiling seeing what people are saying about Niall. For every positive thing someone has to say about Niall there’s another nasty comment about her sexuality, her immaturity, her hair or her body, all from people who don’t even know her. Zayn’s taking to twitter before she can regret it, knows that Liam will give her an earful for this and doubts that Niall will see it anyway but she has to say something.

_@zaynmalik: been reading some shit, thinkin maybe people shouldnt judge any books by their covers !_  
 _@zaynmalik: and yes, i AM talking about @NiallOfficial. She’s a lovely girl who doesn’t deserve the articles ive just read about her_  
 _@zaynmalik: i went through it too, .it's hard enough to start out a modelling career without the media but niall has handled all of it beautifully_  
 _@zaynmalik: amazing to see her be so influential in young girls and LGBT community. hopes she never stops being niall horan ._

_@zaynmalik: anyone has anything bad to say about her will also have to answer to me. ask me if i give a motherfuck !?_

It’s probably the most Zayn has ever said on twitter, in any interview, on any social media site ever, but instead of feeling anxious when the notifications start rolling in she feels steady, watches the support and retweets and hashtags grow before she realizes she doesn’t really care, just hopes that Niall _does_ see what she’s said and doesn’t take it the wrong way. Zayn’s never been good at apologizing but she hopes this gets her point across.

Zayn has to tear herself away from her phone after five minutes, feels like a stupid high schooler waiting for her crush to call her back and abandons her phone on the nightstand to brush her teeth, tells herself she’s going straight to bed and won’t check it again. She lasts another two minutes before there’s a ping and she shuffles out from the bathroom with her toothbrush in her mouth, swipes at her notifications.

_@NiallOfficial: FUCK YEAH_

and then,  
 _Direct Message from @NiallOfficial: thank you !! ! xx ;) means the world , honestly_

:::

The next time Zayn sees Niall it’s her, Niall, Leigh-Anne and Cher leaving the Tomlinson office one night, Louis needing the four of them for last-minute measurements for a showcase that weekend.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” Niall asks the four of them as they’re shrugging on their coats, Cher already halfway out the door to catch her bus and Leigh-Anne heading in a different direction, leaves Niall staring hopefully over at Zayn.

They end up at McDonald’s, Zayn tries to refuse Niall’s offer to buy her fries and a shake but Niall doesn’t believe Zayn’s “Liam would kill me” excuse, just snorts and steps up to order and tells Zayn to go find a booth.

Niall finds their table with a trayful of french fries and boxes of chicken nuggets, slides across from Zayn and hands her a milkshake and completely ignores Zayn’s laugh, _Niall, it’s 1:30 in the morning, you know that right_?

Zayn ends up eating two boxes of fries and laughs too much to finish her shake, has her face buried in her hands by the end of their meal because Niall is telling some ridiculous story about a shoot she did with a soccer ball, tried bouncing it off the pavement and it bounced up and hit her straight in the face. The tray between them is empty, nothing but ketchup smears and straw wrappers but they’re swapping stupid stories and Zayn hasn’t done this since high school, just sat and talked to another girl and been able to have such a connection. It’s different than talking to Louis or Liam or any of her male model friends, not that Zayn has trouble talking to girl but it’s just that some of them are so intimidating.

“I was the one who swapped your shampoo bottles,” Zayn says before she can stop herself after telling Niall a story about when she tried to cut her own hair when she was seven. Niall looks up from where she’s sucking at the remains of her milkshake, Zayn panics for a second but Niall just grins, starts laughing until she’s red-faced again. “I thought I had grabbed someone else’s bottle,” she giggles, and it’s amazing really because Zayn wants to apologize, wants to say sorry for everything but just smiles warmly, thanks Niall for the fries. Feels like whatever twitter and tonight meant for them was forgiveness enough.

:::

They’re on better terms after that, Louis signs Niall to his label as an official Tomlinson model and every time Zayn’s at the office Niall is there too, Louis hurrying to get his winter line assembled and pick the models to walk it. Usually Zayn shows up and sits in a corner with Liam, tinkers around on her phone or offers to help one of Louis’s assistants just so she doesn’t have to interact with the other models. This time is different, though, she and Niall are in the thick of it, Louis eager to showcase the two of them in his newest gowns. It’s just as he promised, black lacy one for Zayn and a contrasting white one for Niall. Liam and Harry are exchanging looks when they see the two of them but they don’t say anything, go back to crouching over their phones like all the other managers in the room are doing. Zayn would be willing to bet a large sum of money that Liam is just playing Angry Birds.

They’re both escorted to the white room, cameras and stylist scattered everywhere while Kate and Amanda are finishing up their shoot for Louis’s overcoats. Zayn doesn’t miss the nasty look the pair of them shoot her when the flashing cameras finally stop. She’s used to it, assumes that it’s jealousy over Zayn being picked for the top spot of the line again, used to being accused of being Louis’s favorite and she never bothered fighting back because the accusations weren’t exactly false, anyway. Zayn knows it’s better to ignore it. Sticks and stones, and all.

Niall doesn’t know this hierarchy yet. “Are they looking at us funny?” she leans over to mumble into Zayn’s shoulder, which really only makes the glares from the other models worse and Zayn shrugs her off, a bit. Pretends she doesn’t catch the hurt look on Niall’s face.

“We’ve just gotta do the shoot, alright?” she says, cool and collected and already walking up to the marks on the floor leaving Niall behind her. Zayn’s glad the mood of the shoot isn’t intimate or even friendly, the photographer just ordering Zayn and Niall to stand back to back or side by side, show off their gowns and their most fierce faces. Zayn can feel all the eyes in the room on them but it’s not exactly comfortable this time. It feels like if they take longer than necessary for this shoot that everyone’s going to think Niall’s incompetent or Zayn’s losing her game.

It’s only a quiet remark from Kate, still watching off to the left, “I guess Louis’s still playing favorites,” and that’s all that’s needed for a murmur to break out from the clump of models watching the shoot. _Guess they’re dating now_ and _no, Zayn’s too uptight for her_ and _don’t see what’s so great about gay models, anyway_ and Niall goes rigid beside Zayn just as the photographer squeezes in his last couple of shots.

Zayn stays in her spot, doesn’t know if they’re supposed to have solo portraits or not but Niall’s already gone, approaching the group of girls and if looks could fucking kill.

“Yeah, hi. Is there something any of you would like to say? To my face?” she asks, hand on her hip with a tilt to her stance that’s challenging, Zayn can see her eyebrows raised from her side. Zayn spots Harry at the doorway, looks completely at ease despite the fact that Niall’s just approached a pack of supermodels who could probably rip her apart like a pack of lionesses. Something tells Zayn this isn’t the first time Niall’s gone to put other models in their place.

“We were wondering why Zayn’s been up your ass, lately,” Kate finally speaks up, steps to the front of the group and says it loud enough that Zayn hears it. “Did Louis sign you just because you’re gay? Or are you just here to help Zayn out of the closet?”

 Harry’s eyes slide to her and Zayn feels her face get hot, doesn’t look up from where she’s picking at the collar of her dress. Doesn’t want to get involved but she sees Niall take a step back, almost trips in her heels from what Zayn can see without lifting her head. Doesn’t want to rise to the bait but she’s not about to stay quiet, not after they all saw her tweets and are bullying Niall ten feet away from her.

“Kate,” Zayn finally speaks up sweetly, gives the group her best smile. “Since you’re so sure of yourself with that opinion, you wouldn't mind repeating it to Louis when he comes in, would you? You and I both know how much he values the opinions of his models. Especially models who make homophobic remarks, yeah?”

Kate blinks, takes a step back into her group and narrows her eyes at Zayn, obviously thinks she’s bluffing but not willing to risk Louis finding out and ruining her career. There’s another few moments of tense silence before Niall is called back over to her spot in front of another camera for solo shots, and the other models stalk back into the dressing rooms. “Hey!” Niall calls at their retreating backs, raises a middle finger up at them. “And I’m bi, for your information!”

Zayn starts laughing from behind the camera and Niall blows her a kiss.

_@NiallOfficial: GIRLS DEFENDING OTHER GIRLS ! love it haha , keep it up xxxx_

:::

“How did you know you were gay?”

Zayn knows it’s a really stupid question, and she half expects Louis to scold her for it but he just looks steadily at her from across his desk.

“I suppose ‘I’ve always known’ isn’t the answer you’re looking for,” he says after a moment, gives her a light smile to let her know he’s not offended when he sets down the portfolio he’s looking over. “I guess. I was always bullied about it in school, before I even knew, just like slurs and comments from other people. I think it was just that I was never really satisfied when I had girlfriends? And at first I chalked that up to, like, it was school and everyone didn’t know what they were doing. Then I started taking art and fashion classes, used a _lot_ of Calvin Klein magazines as references. I think it was a gradual thing, realizing it at least, but looking back on it I did have way more posters of David Beckham than any normal fifteen year old boy would.”

Louis pauses, picks at his cufflinks and looks up at Zayn with half a shrug, a silent _hope that helped_ and Zayn just gives him a tight smile. “So, I think I might be a little bit gay then? Or at least I might be a little in love with Niall?”

“Zayn, are you asking me or telling me?”

She bites her lip, can hardly hide her smile. “Telling you.”

Louis tries to keep a straight face but can’t, edges into a grin and just nods. Doesn’t make it a big deal because he’s Louis and he always knows exactly how to react with Zayn. “Alright, so go tell her.”

:::

Niall approaches Zayn in the dressing room as she’s trying to wiggle herself out of her dress, some tight, sparkly gold gown from Ziad Ghanem’s new line they somehow squeezed her into three hours ago but she’s trying to reach the zipper without having to call in anyone, when she sees Niall open the door through the mirror. Niall’s just off the runway, a sheer blue and green gown that makes her look like a goddess, really, the type of thing she was born to wear and she doesn’t look like she has any intention of taking it off, just steps down out of her heels by the door and looks up to see Zayn struggling for her zipper.

“Need help?” Niall asks after a few seconds of watching, doesn’t wait for Zayn to nod until she’s at Zayn’s back in a second, hands cautious at the base of her neck and raising her eyebrows at Zayn in the mirror. Zayn nods and Niall grins, runs a thumb up against the hair at the nape of Zayn’s dress before undoing the zipper all the way down to Zayn’s black thong, the only thing she could get away with wearing for this gown.

Niall lets out a low whistle but that’s it, turns on her heel and ducks into her corner of the room to slip out of her own dress. Zayn glances over just in time to see Niall peeling breast petals off her nipples, shoots Zayn a raised eyebrow and a tiny smile before turning her back and grabbing her bathrobe.

It’s not. Like. A big deal. It shouldn’t be. It isn’t. It’s just that Zayn’s remembering Niall and Barbara in the hot tub, Niall in that rainbow croptop, Niall walking to the continental breakfast at the hotel in a too-big football jersey and boyshorts underwear.

“I’ve never kissed a girl,” Zayn says slowly down to her bottle of makeup remover, risks a glance up at the mirror to see Niall watching her. “Sober, I mean.”

“Do you want to?”

Zayn’s not expecting such a blunt answer, stumbles a bit and has to finally turn to face Niall, the reflection is disorienting. Niall’s standing with her hand on her hip, bathrobe lazily tied around her waist and her hair still falling out of it’s hold. “Don’t give me some bullshit that you’re straight but experimenting, or that you’re drunk, or that you’re going to deny that it happened, though.” She sounds like she’s laying out a business deal, walking closer to Zayn until they’re face to face and Niall’s mascara is smudged a little bit, just a smear of it at the corner of her eye, her feline eyeliner skewed the slightest bit.

All Zayn can do is put on her show personality, stick out her lips in a comedic, contemplative pout and shake her head. Doesn’t know how to be personal. “I think I might...like girls.” she pauses, frowns up at the ceiling and revises, “I think I like _you_.”

Niall stares hard at her, Zayn’s heart probably visibly pounding through her ribs, terrified that Niall’s going to rip her apart, terrified that Zayn’s somehow offended her, but Niall just sighs “Thank _God_ ,” and surges forward, crushing her lips to Zayn’s.

It’s not that much different than kissing a man, Zayn figures out pretty quickly. It’s actually pretty pleasant. More than pleasant. Niall is smooth and lazy with it all, doesn’t rush to open Zayn’s mouth to hers any time soon and it’s Zayn who eventually does, slides her tongue uncertainly against Niall’s bottom lip and the younger girl falls into it easily, takes control and her hands go to Zayn’s hips and she tastes like oranges, sharp and sweet and it’s definitely more than pleasant. Zayn’s worried that Niall’s going to take it too far, put her hands somewhere new or expect Zayn to do something she won’t know how to do, but Niall just squeezes her hips, breaks off with a quick peck and grins, face flushed.

“That was?” is all Zayn manages, too caught on the sight of her dark red lipstick smeared on Niall’s mouth, her bottom lip caught between her teeth when she winks at Zayn and flounces off to get dressed.

“You can come to me whenever you want, you know,” Niall calls over her shoulder as she hops around trying to pull her skinny jeans on. “If you have, like, questions. Or stuff.”

The _or stuff_ is very vague and exciting and Zayn doesn’t know what to do with all of this, can’t process it fast enough before Niall’s running out of the room leaving Zayn to try and fix the hot pink lipstick left behind on her own mouth.

Niall finds Zayn a few hours later at the after party, the older model already a couple drinks in and leaning against the bar in her slinky red dress and looking bored of it all. When Niall sidles over, she’s half-expecting Zayn to ignore her, but instead she turns her amber gaze immediately to Niall, smiles all slow and cat-like and leans forward. “Can I buy you a drink?” she asks, pushes Niall’s hair behind her ear and practically talks into her neck. It makes Niall shiver. Nod.

There’s something fruity in a cold glass pressed into her hand a minute later, Zayn watching her sharply enough for Niall to know that she’ not drunk at all, really, but she’s not letting on that she’s more sober than most people here. Which is why Niall is that much more surprised when Zayn steps forward, crowds into Niall’s space and cranes her head down again to Niall’s ear, purrs “Dance?”

“Drink or dance? You’re asking too much of me, Malik.” There’s a tilting smile on Zayn’s face and Niall returns it, downs the drink in one go and takes Zayn by the wrist, leads her to the center of the club. She can feel eyes on her, or maybe they’re looking at Zayn, she hopes they’re looking at Zayn. Almost as soon as Niall stops leading them Zayn’s crowding her again, pressing herself up against Niall’s back. Her hands are shaking the slightest bit when she puts her hands on Niall’s waist and finally Niall laughs, turns her head into Zayn’s neck and rolls her hips, shows her how to follow the rhythm and Zayn falls into it quickly, Niall leaning into her and letting her figure out how to dance like this. She feels Zayn’s mouth hovering at her neck a few times, breath hot on her skin and Niall just grinds harder, smiles when she hears Zayn huff a surprised noise from the back of her throat.

They make it through three songs before Zayn is stuttering in her ear, something that sounds like _air_? and it’s a loaded question. Niall turns to meet Zayn’s eye and nods.

Once they’re outside Zayn’s not as put-together, fumbling for a cigarette out of her clutch and almost tripping in her heels, feels out of place in the alley but Niall is just golden in front of her, sequins off her dress catching under the neon light of the club’s sign and her hair falling around her face in waves. It takes Zayn four tries to light her cigarette.

“Canwegobacktoyourroom,” she mumbles around the paper, doesn’t expect Niall to hear her but she does.

“Yeah.”

They hail a cab, slide into the backseat and Zayn feels like she did in the dressing room earlier, skittish and eager and she lets her hand creep across to rest on Niall’s knee. Niall blushes so it’s worth it, gives Zayn a little more confidence and she slides her hand up higher, under the hem of her golden sequin dress and Niall just tilts her head back against the headrest and smiles. Zayn doesn’t quite _know_ what to do after this, just keeps her fingers curled on Niall’s thigh until they’re at the hotel, Niall takes Zayn’s hand and leads her straight to the elevator.

Niall starts giggling half-way up to the sixth floor but she doesn’t say anything, just tows Zayn along behind her to her room and knocks the door shut behind them, has Zayn pinned against the wall in a second and she’s already kissing her. It’s exactly like it was in the dressing room, simple and curious and she lets Zayn lick into her mouth first before Niall’s fingers dig into Zayn’s waist, bunches up the fabric of her dress in her fists and doesn’t relent as quickly as she did a few hours ago. She hums into Zayn’s mouth and somehow they figure out that that means move, Niall jumps up and wraps her legs around Zayn’s waist and they stumble into the room and onto the bed.

Niall’s already shimmying out of her sequined dress, Zayn splayed on the bed watching and trying to work up the nerve to speak, finally manages when Niall’s crawling back onto the bed in just her bra and underwear. “I’ve never done this,” Zayn blurts, eyes wide with half-panic, half-excitement and Niall just grins. “Never done _this_?”

“I mean. I’ve done sex. I’ve _had_ sex. With guys.”

“Because you think you’re straight.”

“Yes.”

“Alright. And how has sex with guys been treating you, thus far?”

“Fine,” Zayn snaps but Niall’s not listening, already crawling up to sit on Zayn’s hips and ruck her dress up over her torso, waits for Zayn to nod to pull it the rest of the way off.

Niall’s hands trace over Zayn’s bra as she tosses the dress to the floor and Zayn squirms a little under her hands, tries to stay quiet and still but as soon as Niall leans down to kiss her she gasps into her mouth. Niall comes up giggling, sits on Zayn’s hips and rocks forward to tease, “you _really_ haven’t done this before.”

“You _really_ like talking,” Zayn snaps, moves her hands up to steady Niall on her lap and her fingers stutter on her hipbones when she feels the heat through Niall’s underwear. Niall’s been giggling this whole time, breathy little laughs that ghost over Zayn’s neck and collarbones when she leans down again to bite at the clean column of Zayn’s throat. Zayn tries lifting her hips, wants to grind back against Niall but the younger girl just pouts, raises herself up on all fours and cages Zayn underneath her. “You’re also, like, _really_ eager,” Niall mumbles.

Zayn bares her teeth, knows she’s taking the piss but she can’t help it, feels hot and restless and _wet_ , it’s been five minutes and this is already better than any night she’s spent with some male Armani model, drunk or sober. She hisses _Niall_ under her breath, reaches up to pull Niall back down but the blonde just sits back on her heels and pushes her hair over onto one shoulder, taking her time with whatever the fuck she’s planning on doing. Zayn’s patience is wearing thin until Niall rolls her eyes, reaches behind herself and the room is quiet enough that Zayn hears the soft _snick_ of Niall’s bra being unhooked.

“Are you giving me a striptease, Niall, because I swear to--” Zayn starts, has never been this chatty in bed but Niall’s got some absolutely ridiculous effect on her. She’s silenced when Niall lets her bra drop from around her shoulder and she leans back over Zayn and this is so different than the dressing room, Zayn’s mouth is watering and she wants to lean up and _bite_ but Niall’s already poking at Zayn’s ribs, lays her hands flat and pushes at Zayn’s breasts, presses a kiss just above her bra cup and Zayn understands, sits up enough to unhook hers and toss it to the floor before she gets self-conscious. Or whatever. Niall’s eyes light up and Zayn thinks that she is absolutely the most distracted person Zayn’s ever been in bed with.

“Okay, before we get down to brass tax here, I have to say that the girls backstage at VS were saying you didn’t deserve to wear the Fantasy Bra but can I just say that your tits are _definitely_ worth more than $12 million,” she breathes and then that’s it, her mouth is finally on Zayn’s again and Niall’s moving with a purpose now, grinds down on Zayn’s pubic bone and bites at her bottom lip

“What do you want,” Niall asks into Zayn’s mouth, breaks them apart to look her in the eye and Zayn squirms, gasps “anything,” in response and Niall stops moving again, smiles. “Are you a virgin, Zayn Malik?”

“Niall, Jesus Christ, no, I’m not a virgin, I’ve just never came with another person before and I would _really_ like to so if you could _please_ stop trying to have a goddamn conversation with me--”

Niall scoots off Zayn, eyes wide and giddy and she whispers, “guys have never made you orgasm before?” like it’s a christmas present, immediately starts shimmying down Zayn’s body and giggling just like she had been before. “Babe, why didn’t you just say so?”

Zayn shivers when Niall slides her fingers along the edge of her underwear, just gives Zayn a pleading look as if there’s nothing else she wants more in the world and Zayn can only nod dumbly, lifts her hips and Niall slides the fabric down her thighs and drops them carelessly on the floor. She doesn’t hesitate to lift Zayn’s leg up over her shoulder and press a kiss to her inner thigh and then exhales a quiet “ _fuck_ ,” bows her head and presses her mouth wide against Zayn.

Zayn cries out, a hand immediately going to Niall’s hair and Niall smiles into her, mouths over Zayn’s clit enough to make her shudder before pressing her tongue firmly against the rest of her, warm and heavy and Zayn doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t realize she’s lifting her hips until Niall’s hand snakes up and pressing at her lower stomach, keeping her pinned to the bed. Zayn anchors herself looking at Niall’s nail polish, still a shade of blue and the thumbnail’s still chipped. Niall eats Zayn out the same way she kissed her, lazily and in no rush but when Zayn bucks her hips up again Niall finally moves up to her clit, sucks and kisses until Zayn’s writhing. She can’t help but whimper out _Niall_ and that’s all the cue the younger girl needs, picks up a steadier rhythm and presses a finger at Zayn’s entrance and hums at the back of her throat and then Zayn’s thighs are trembling around her head. The noise she makes when she comes isn’t like what she normally sounds like, pathetic groans when she’s faking it with a guy or her quiet panting into her pillow with her vibrator, tries to stay quiet but ends up whimpering Niall’s name over and over while Niall licks her through it, don’t come up until Zayn’s twitching away from the oversensitivity and the muscles in her stomach stop jumping.

Niall sits back at the end of the bed and licks her lips, just smiles when Zayn finally pushes her hair back and can sit up to look at Niall more easily.

“Wow,” Niall says with raised brows, teasing and not at all sincere about it but Zayn just echoes _wow_ quietly, stares down at her hands and she hears Niall shift of the mattress. Feels like she should say something. “Do you want me to, like, return the favor?”

Niall barks a laugh, doesn’t mean to be insulting and Zayn doesn’t take it that way but blushes anyway. “Let’s take it one orgasm at a time, yeah?” Niall says warmly, pats Zayn on the kneecap and lets her hand travel up her thigh, crawls closer to sit in her lap again.

Niall noses at Zayn’s neck once she’s pressed up against her, palms her breasts and tucks her face into her collarbone when she starts to laugh. “Sorry I thought you were homophobic,” she whispers and Zayn stills, remembers that discussion and laughs, too, laughs like they did in McDonald’s and wraps her arms tight around Niall.

“Sorry I was an asshole,” Zayn finally says and it’s so fucking easy to say, why hasn’t she been able to say it earlier, mutters “also I think I love you” into Niall’s hair and of course she hears it.

There’s a pause, Niall doesn’t move but lets out a little huff of air, “is this because I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, Malik?” and Zayn considers it, pauses from where she’s been rubbing circles into the small of Niall’s back with her thumb and Niall whips to face her.

“Maybe,” Zayn allows but Niall picks up on her tone immediately, grins and digs a finger into her side.

“Alright, _maybe_ , if that’s how we’re being, I love you too,” Niall rolls her eyes, crinkles up her nose and gets up. “Now, if you’d like, maybe you can start loving me all over again in the shower.”

:::

_@zaynmalik: maybe @louis_tomlinson signing @NiallOfficial as a full-time model isn’t so bad after all … x :)_  
 _@NiallOfficial: @zaynmalik @louis_tomlinson mayb i’m only in it for the money , honey !!_  
 _@Louis_Tomlinson: @ZaynMalik @NiallOfficial  maybe you’re both annoying as hell. Get back to work ! x_


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